3 September

Poem: Followed By A Shadow. It Is Enough

by Jon Katz
I Am At Peace

I am beginning to be old now, still learning,

still amazed at the idea that my life here on this farm

is inexhaustible,

it’s possibilities are boundless,

behind me and ahead of me and when I die,

it will still not nearly be over or finished.

I know now I have lived on a farm before, in another life,

another place,

I know because I knew I was home when I bought my farm,

and  came to live on it.

Walking in the woods the other day,

I realized that every good and wonderful thing in my life

– Maria, my blogs, my blog, my photos, my friends, Red, Fate, Gus,

Lulu, Fanny, Minnie and Flo, the deep woods, the rolling hills,

the bursting gardens – have all come from the farm.

The farm is my true mother,

it is a whirlpool that sucked me in,

like it was some ancient well,

and spun me around and around,

until I shed the fear and confusion and anger,

it rubbed my face in my destiny, past, present and future.

Every man is followed by a shadow,

which is the end of his life, his death,

the deepest and most unfathomable sinkhole there is.

Life looks different when you have so many years behind you

than ahead of you,

every day is precious,

but not in the old and urgent way,

it is the most human kind of joy to be in the world.

The farm is like an old man to me,

all of his human obligations me, his life beginning to wind down,

peace descended and destiny revealed,

his life the most intricate and delicate tapestry.

Because he did not ever expect to be finished,

he is learning  to learn, because he can finally learn,

he is beginning to listen, because he is beginning to listen,

he has found love and is loved.

He often wonders why this came to late, why it was so hard,

but out in the woods, he understands that this is the point.

He accepts his destiny and  honors it,

he was never as much afraid of death as he was of life.

It is not from his own face in the mirror that he learned

to be better than he was, or is now.

Let it be. Let it go. It is enough.

3 September

Now For Sale, “The Farm On Route 67,” For $60

by Jon Katz

 

The Farm On Route 67

The “Farm On Route 67” is now for sale, a signed 81/2 by 11 print on archival paper for $60 plus $10 shipping ($70), more outside of the United States.

You can buy it on Maria’s blog – the “Buy Now” button or by sending a check for $70 to Full Moon Fiber Art c/o Bedlam Farm, Post Office Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. You can also e-mail her at [email protected].

The image is 8 1/2 x 11 unframed.  I’ll sign each of the prints, it will be an open edition.

The picture speaks for itself, I think, it has generated a lot of interest from people thinking about buying it. About ten people asked to buy it before it went on sale.

I’m going to be selling photos from time to time, my idea is that they will be distinctive, distinguishable from smartphone photos or digital camera lenses. The farmhouse and the small barn are in sharp focus, the periphery is softer to create a particular and timeless kind of effect. A challenge for me, I am really learning about photography with this lens, there is no autofocus or image stabilizer.

It will probably take a couple of weeks to get the photos, George Forss is tied up printing the limited edition Blue Heron pictures, which have sold out.

The photograph was taken with a Daguerrotype lens combined with a Chevalier lens, it was made by the Lomography Co., a Kickstarter project. This is a re-issue of the first optical lens ever made for photography, it was built in the 1830’s. It seeks to revive a once popular kind of photography, lens that were softer and more magical, that had some of the elements of a painting.

We are working hard to offer these photos as inexpensively as possible while printing them in the highest quality way. This photo will be printed on the best archival paper.  Maria is handling the sales of these photographs and treating them like any of the art she sells, she is taking her usual commission (after some prodding.)

If you are interested in purchasing the Route 67 photo, please contact Maria, she’s [email protected],  or use the Paypal button on her blog or the post office box listed above. And thanks very much.

3 September

Blue Heron Is Sold Out And Thank YOu

by Jon Katz
Sold Out

The Blue Heron photograph I took a week ago has sold out.

By Saturday night, 50 people had purchased  one of the signed and limited edition prints. Maria has taken over the sale of my photographs. And thank you. This is somewhat of a triumph for my evolving ideas about photography and my new Daguerreotype Achromat lens, which I am certainly keeping.

This is my all time best photo seller, topping dogs, donkeys, landscapes and flowers. There are a lot of heron people out there, and this bird carries some magic with her.

I love this photograph and am grateful so many others do as well. I’ve decided to sell photographs occasionally if they are distinctive and unusual. This one is evocative and magical, I think. Thanks for liking it.

I am constantly experiencing with ways to enhance and expand on my photography, my two art lens, the Petzval 58 and the Achromat are two important steps forward.

I will keep working hard to learn more about all of my photographs and take pictures that touch people, as this one did.

These photos are less literal than the digital lens pictures, there is no electronics in them, no autofocus or image stabilizers, I mess up many more photos than I get right. They are not out of focus, they have a softer focus to create a timeless, almost painterly affect.

Tonight or tomorrow morning, I’ll offer a second photo for sale, “The Farm On Route 67,” it will be slightly smaller (8x 101/2) and thus less expensive to print. It will be signed but not part of a limited edition. It will cost $60 plus $10  shipping and Maria will put up a Paypal button on her website. (Last night, I mentioned a possible price of $50 but after conferring with George Forss, our printer

People can also pay by check if they prefer, she will offer the details on her site, she is a bit swamped now handling the orders for The Blue Heron.

I pushed her  to agree to take a commission on the photos she is organizing and selling, I would not be comfortable if she worked this hard and wasn’t compensated. So thanks very much, this is very affirming for me. The farm photo, which many people are asking about, will be up for sale shortly.

This is exciting for me, and I much appreciate your good words and  your interest in this photograph.

3 September

The Skeptic’s Impulse. Doubting, Not Hating.

by Jon Katz

The author Wendell Berry writes of the skeptic’s impulse, he was watching a heron flying in such a beautiful way it seemed to confirm the presence of a free nonhuman joy in the world – a joy he felt a great need to believe in.

He admitted that he had the skeptic’s impulse to doubt that he had even seen it. If he had, he thought, it would be a sign of the presence of something heavenly in the earth.

And then, he wrote, one evening a year later, he saw it again.

I know about the skeptic’s impulse, I have it, and I believe that most curious, open-minded and intelligent people have it.

A skeptic is a person inclined to question or doubt many, if not all, commonly accepted opinions. In ancient times, a skeptic was an ancient or modern philosopher who denies the possibility of knowledge, or even rational belief. Skepticism was a discipline, a kind of philosophy that challenge conventional wisdom.

I have never been inclined to blindly accept the dogma or certainties of other people – not a religion, the Bible, a politician who kisses babies, the left, the right, arrogant parents or dogmatic teachers.

I worship the power and judgments of my own mind, and I am skeptical of the things others assure me is the absolute truth.

The world is not black or white for me, but hues of many colors. This skepticism has blocked me, at times, from accepting the beauty and power of the natural world, the mystical symbolism of animals, the existence of a monotheistic God, even the trust and good will of human beings.

I am  wary of skepticism, it often can turn into a kind of cynicism, widespread among the intellectuals and philosophers and journalists of our time. I am also a skeptic, a journalist and writer, my work would be nearly useless without doubt and thought.

The real meaning of the term skepticism has nothing much to do with doubt or disbelief or a negative way of looking at things.

Skepticism is actually a philosophical and scientific discipline, it refers to the process of applying reason and critical thinking to an  idea or belief to determine its validity. It is the process of  reaching a conclusion that is supported, not simply declared or preconceived.

The increasingly bitter conflict between President Trump and his supporters and the media can also be understood in a broader context. It is a conflict between dogma and certain belief – what the President says is, to  him, the absolute truth  – and the ancient role of the journalist to be skeptical of absolute truth,  to think critically and search for validity and ratification.

The President and his supporters do not believe his actions should ever be challenged or question, or that anything he says might ever be false. Their leader is, to them, a quasi-religious figure, akin to a Pope or prophet.  His ideas should be accepted, like Christ’s, as  the absolute truth. Skeptics – journalists –  thus become blasphemers and heretics, an enemy to be cast aside.

Journalism is, by definition, a skeptic’s craft. I loved being a journalist who was asked to be a skeptic, to afflict the comforted and comfort the afflicted.

But the true skeptic is not looking to debunk, he is simply looking for what it truth insofar as it can be proven.

It is inaccurate, say skeptics,  to say skepticism is a dark value system, or that “Skeptics don’t believe in ghosts.” Some do. Many skeptics are deeply religious, and are satisfied with the reasoning process that led them there. Skeptics apply critical thinking to different aspects of their lives in their own individual way. Everyone is a skeptic to some degree.

I sometimes believe in ghosts, and sometimes I don’t. And up here in the country, I have actually seen ghosts. And I’m still skeptical of their existence.

When we were struggling to sell the first Bedlam Farm, a spiritual healer assured me that if we put statues on the windowsills and buried a statue of St. Joseph on the front lawn, the house would be sold.  She said I needed to apologize to the house before it could let me go.

I was skeptical, and the house did not sell. I resisted the idea that I was somehow spiritually to blame for the failure of the house to sell. And I wished I had challenged the self-proclaimed spiritual healer to justify her claims.

The skeptical impulse can save me from  being manipulated, and often helps me to see reality. I do not believe children are born as sinners, I do not believe politicians who say they are going to dismantle the system that enriches them and oppresses the vulnerable, I do not believe the moon has healing powers.

I believe animals come for a reason, and that they can speak to us. And I do believe that light is holy and color is a sign from the angels. I believe that the energy of our lives and experiences resides inside of us and shapes our existence. I do believe animals feel joy and that the trees know us and care for one another and hurt when they are sick or killed.

I believe I have lived on a farm before, and many times and I believe that dogs are spirit animals who come for a reason and leave for a reason. We are all creatures of our own value system, and many people challenge my system of beliefs all of the time.

One woman despises my writing and my blog and books, she has written on a website that my therapy work with Red is simply another false narrative concocted to sell books and make myself look good. Is she a skeptic or a cynic? I can’t really say.

I seek a spiritual life, and in a sense, a true spiritual life is not really compatible with skepticism, because it can’t really be seen or proven in a rational or scientific way. Truth faith, I think, asks us to let go of skepticism and take the leap. Truly spiritual people always have doubt, and they always understand that they are in conflict with rational thought and interior belief.

I believe that most people are good, given the chance, and I believe that Mother Earth is dying and that we are called to save her. I believe the poor need hope and are not to blame for their suffering. I don’t want my skepticism to turn to cynicism and doubt.

I don’t wish to lose my skeptic’s impulse, but I try to work and keep it from become a wall that blocks spirituality, compassion and empathy. But I don’t wish to be taken over by it, either. Thus the dance. Somethings cannot be cleanly resolved.

The skeptic’s dance is never quite over, and the skeptic will always be caught between two worlds, that of hope and promise, and that of trust, worry and anger.

I cherish the skeptic’s impulse, even though I am wary of it.

As for me, I hope I retain the ability to doubt and question the dogma of other people, especially powerful ones like politicians and billonaires. I hope it does not become a firewall keeping me from grasping the miracles and  spiritual wonder of the world.

I want it all, the rational truth and the holy light.

3 September

The Pouty Face

by Jon Katz
The Pouty Face

Most of the photos I put up of my granddaughter Robin have her smiling and laughing at life, but Emma tells me she has another side, of course – I have never seen it. She can be strong-willed and angry when she doesn’t get something she wants, or when she is unhappy. This week, she went to Salt Lake City to visit her paternal grandparents, and she wasn’t happy to be strapped in a seat for several hours.

I enjoyed the pouty face, I hadn’t seen it. Of course no one, especially a one-year old baby is happy all the time, and she has a great defiant look about here. I can see she does have a strong will, God help Emma.

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